Turnabout: My One True Love
by i-is-all-brains
Summary: well, this is based on my good friend Leah Rea, who in this, gets all the guys. Rated T for a reason, possible attempted rape and relationships READ AND REVIEW PEOPLE-its my first story...
1. Chapter 1

**Turnabout My One True Love.**

Chapter one: My Glorious History.

"I declare the defendant GUILTY!"

The judge's gavel fell and that oh so sweet ring of victory echoed throughout the emptying courtroom.

Another case, done and dusted.

My name is Leah Newman. Prosecutor in the eyes of the law. Well in the eyes of everyone.

I am _the most_ famous prosecutor in all of America and no doubt, the best.

Very modest too.

I have never lost a case in seven years. Seven glorious and victorious years.

I first started at the age of 18. I was inspired at a very early age.

* * *

My father was a heavy drinker. An alcoholic, you might say. My mother? She was the punch bag.

I can't remember exactly when he started but at only ten years old, I decided to record what happens to her on my small camcorder that she had bought me for my birthday. Oh how I moaned and pleaded for it.

My mother would wear baggy clothes and put on more make-up than usual to cover the bruises. I knew what happened though.

One night I pretended to go to bed, and I hid behind the couch with my camcorder in hand.

They started talking quietly but then it just got louder and louder. Eventually they were screaming at each other. I think it was about money, again.

Suddenly my father lifted her favourite decorative vase from the small mantelpiece and I flinched as blood sprayed onto the wall behind me from the horrible gash in my mother's head my father had so 'nicely' given her.

Glass was lying everywhere and my mother was draped over the unusual coffee table, very still.

Nothing stirred for a few moments and then my (obviously) drunk father decided to stumble up the stairs and go to bed, fully clothed.

I stayed where I was in the hope that my mother would wake up and cover up the mess as best she could, but nothing happened.

The slow dripping of blood soon made a very large mark on the carpet, and at that point I knew my mother would never wake up again.

* * *

I awoke to a sickly sweet smell - the smell of blood. A few flies had appeared out of no-where, probably during the night. I looked down to find the camcorder was still recording. I pressed the power switch and I knew what I had to do.

I was going to the station.

I got up from behind the small couch and crept past the body of my mother to the door and grabbed the keys from the small black hook they always hung on, right beside the door. Just in the event of a fire, they would say, but it was more like when one of them had finally had enough of the other.

As I opened the door, I could hear the creak of floorboards above my head. My father was coming down the stairs. I fumbled with the keys, panicking and scared he might just turn on me. I must have tried all the keys on the ring but none of them was opening the door! How many keys does a person need??

I panicked as my father was trudging down the stairs so I ran through the living room and into the kitchen to the back door. I tried the old looking key on the ring because our back door was a VERY old door. It clicked and I tried the handle. Time to go. Just as I was leaving what happened, I heard my father scream and swear. He called My name, but no way in hell was I going back.

* * *

"Hey, kid, are you lost?"

I padded along the little entry to the police station in my dressing gown and pink slippers.

"I need help." I whispered quietly. The policeman leant down to see what I had in my hand. That's when I pressed the 'replay' button.

The policeman just stared. He stared so hard I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his large, fat head.

He eventually stood up and walked over to the receptionist and then calmly strode back over to me.

"Where do you live?"

* * *

"THIS IS THE NEW YORK POLICE DEPARTMENT! OPEN UP! WE KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. YOU HAVE 3 SECONDS TO OPEN UP!"

I was being held by a policewoman in a bullet-proof vest behind a very large group of police men, all brandishing guns.

They didn't even wait for my father to answer the door. One officer brought up something that looked like a massive piece of wood with handle on it and three more officers took hold of it. They swung three times and eventually knocked the old door down.

The smell of blood was intoxicating and the body was probably starting to decompose. I walked in with the policewoman who was covering her mouth and nose in disgust.

A lot of people are sick when they see a dead body, but these police officers didn't even flinch. It was like they had seen it all before.

"I know, I know. Look, it's the summer so this body is going to decompose even quicker and we don't want to upset the neighbours with the smell. It's already getting to the team. So get down here quick and collect the body." A policeman was speaking down the phone to someone, most likely the coroner or someone from that department.

"What the hell happened here?" exclaimed the chief of the police department. He was wearing and expensive suit and a golden badge attached to the lapel.

"Let me see the body. Move people!" A weedy looking man was fighting his way through a growing crowd outside and a bunch of CSI men talking.

"Oh man. Another blunt force trauma to the head. Fantastic. My life is so thrilling." he said. No, he _complained._

There was a thud and a scream from upstairs. I looked around for the policewoman and chief, but they were already springing into action, pulling out there guns and thundering up the stairs.

"Hey! Who's up there?" called the chief.

"I GOT HIM! HE WAS HIDING UNDER THE BED!" yelled an officer.

The policewoman and the chief ran up the stairs, taking two at a time and looking into the rooms. I heard another yell and a "HOLD IT!" then a thud and I knew my father was fighting back.

* * *

My father had tried to run down the stairs and through the door, but an officer caught him outside, who's job was making sure the press didn't get in. He had tackled him to the ground in a matter of milliseconds and as he handcuffed him and brought him back inside, the crowd gave a polite applause.

I sat in the court room for about an hour, listening to the lame excuses my father had to make. The evidence was right there: bloody clothing, fingerprints on the vase, under the influence and a witness. What was even better was that he denied it was him on the tape!

He went to jail that day, and is never coming out again.

That was what inspired me to become a prosecutor in the first place.

Proving a murderer guilty and putting them behind bars before they strike again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: My Regret.

For quite a while now, I've been with my husband, Justin Newman. I finally think I've found the one. He's understanding, supportive and never complains when I come home in a bad mood, which would be, always.

I guess you could say he's therapeutic in a way. Calming me down is probably the hardest thing anyone could ever attempt to do!

I also HAVE to say, he's the most beautiful man I have seen in my 25 years on this earth. From his messy yet neat hair down to the small brown freckles peppered across his cheeks. Quite small and if you weren't close enough (nose to nose) you probably wouldn't notice…

I'm being sidetracked.

I haven't really talked about what he does for a living. Let's just say, I married a brain surgeon. I know, it's a cliché…

He's VERY good at his job, some say he has the 'HEALING TOUCH".

I think they're over-reacting.

I have no doubts that he made some enemies in his line of work, some people not satisfied with the work. At all.

I have always wondered what goes through his mind when a patient flat-lines. I would panic and probably black-out on the spot because of the small fact that I can't use a defibrillator. Oh well.

I always remember one guy. I'll take what I did to my grave.

* * *

His name was Klavier. Never caught his second name, which made it worse.

This was way before Justin proposed to me but he and I were still dating.

Klavier was to be one of Justin's patients and Justin was getting increasingly nervous about operating on the 'rock star'. He looked like a glimmorous fop to me.

I remember our first meeting, in the hospital corridor. I was walking towards the elevator and he just happened to come out of his room, dressed in the flimsy hospital overalls.

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" he said to me, grinning. His teeth sparkled in the late afternoon sun that managed to split through the dense trees that surrounded the hospital.

"Hey! My head is up here!" I snapped, playfully.

I deeply regret what happened.

* * *

A few days later, Justin proposed. I remember hesitating before saying yes. His eyes were so full of hope and love, I COULDN'T say no!

We celebrated and I didn't think about Klavier all through the night I stayed at the apartment, but the next morning, I was woken up by my phone ringing.

"Hello?"

"you never came last night. I waited 'till three in the morning, Leah. Where the hell were you?"

"Oh…I…forgot?"

"Is there someone else?"

"…yes. I'm getting married, Klavier. I'm so sorry, I…"

"Well, that'll make it more interesting, won't it?"

I was so scared he was going to let it slip when I told him who it was I was getting married to.

"My surgeon??" he cried. He laughed maniacally. I have to admit, I was freaked!

* * *

A couple of days later, he underwent surgery.

He had had a brain tumour, they had planned to remove it. They couldn't.

"What do you mean it's too deep? In my brain? Is I spreading? How long do I have left? What am I going to do about my tour next year? Oh God, I can't believe this…" Klavier said exclaimed. Not a good time to break up with him then…

I had to, I knew I had to break up with him, but hearing that news, I just couldn't. I couldn't break his heart anymore. But I had to…I had to!!

It ended up, I did.

He didn't take it well though.

Smashing everything in sight he yelled at me and threw himself onto the

sofa, bed, everything. I ran. Back home, back to Justin.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Nightmare begins.

_I just won a case, again. Time to celebrate with a big glass of w-_

bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep

_What the? Oh, it's my cell phone. Phoenix? What the hell is he ringing me at this time for?_

"Hello?"

"Leah? Oh thank God. I t-thought you had gone too…"

"What? What do you mean, gone? Why are you stammering-?"

"Listen, Leah. Justin didn't turn up at work according to my good friend Sam, you know Sam right?"

"Yes, and why is that important?"

"It's not, but listen. I rang your apartment and there was no answer, so I thought 'well, maybe he's sick all of a sudden' but I thought that would be strange because if he couldn't call in sick, YOU could have done something. If you knew about it. So I-I went over there with a nice big bottle of whiskey in the hope of cheering him up, but when I got there, the door was lying wide open! I thought 'what the hell happened here?' because when I went in, the place was trashed!"

"…what?"

"T-trashed! Everything was turned upside down!"

"Phoenix, I have to get over there."

"I don't think that's, such a good idea. I only told you for your own safety."

"You're talking from your ass again, Phoenix. I'm going over there."

I hung up and looked around me. The court had completely emptied.

* * *

Walking out of the hectic doors of the courtroom, I took out my car keys and lamely shoved a random one into the lock and tried to turn it. It didn't work. I couldn't look for the right one if I wanted to, because I was blinded by

un-falling tears.

Finally, I got the right one and slumped into the drivers seat. The wheel looked so far away…

That was it. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I cried. Tears dripping from my green eyes, making them sting as I tried to blink them back.

_Where the hell are you, Justin? Who could have done this? Why was this happening to me? What has Justin ever done to anyone that was so bad, they had to take revenge?_

I waited for a few minutes, trying to get myself back together and eventually started the engine.

* * *

Driving though the rain is depressing.

It dripped on the window screen as my useless window wipers swiped slowly in an attempt to clear the way of the heavy rain.

Blurry traffic lights tried to shine through to my eyes, but that wasn't going to happen with the amount of water running over the car.

When I got to the apartment, I gazed through the open door in a sort of horrific stare. The sofa was overturned. The lamps on their sides, ripped. Carpets rolled up. Television smashed. Books ripped and pages lying, useless, on the floor.

I walked in a daze towards the bedroom. The door was still closed. I held out my hand, not wanting to open it, but knowing I had to see what was on the other side. I finally mustered the courage to turn my wrist, opening the door.

Everything was fine. Bed was made, curtains pulled open, blinds up.

"_Hey, good morning."_

"_Huh? Oh! Justin. You're awake already?"_

"_Been awake for ages. You're beautiful, you know that?"_

"_What?"_

"_I love you Leah. I just need you to know that."_

"I know." I whispered to myself. Sitting on the bed, brought back memories. Nice ones.

I just didn't understand why he had gone missing. Was he kidnapped? Did he run away?

I stroked the bed covers one last time and headed over to the phone to call the police. I was having double vision as I tried to pick up the phone.

"Leah."

I turned around suddenly to find a man standing behind the door.

His name is Apollo. I don't know his last name. Never caught it.

He is a defence attorney and I have only face him twice in my seven years of being a prosecutor.

He has brown hair with two quite peculiar, but cute, spikes on the front of his head, brown eyes and we wears the same thing to court everyday. But today he was wearing a casual pair of jeans, T-shirt and Converse trainers.

"Apollo? What are you doing here? Why are you behind the door?"

He didn't answer. He just came closer, and closer…

"Hey! I asked you a question! Answer me!" I shouted, getting more scared every second. "What did you do with Justin?" I whispered cautiously.

He still wasn't answering me.

"ANSWER ME!!" I screamed in his face. He jumped on top of me and held my arms down on the bed. What the hell did he think he was doing?!

"Hey!! Help! Get off of me!" I grunted. He was a lot heavier than he looked.

"Leah. I heard about Justin, but I didn't do any thing to him! I just… I really like you. Really."

"Well, you don't have to rape me!! What are you doing here??" I yelled. I was losing my breath by the second. I wasn't' able to breathe in! His body weight was properly pushing the air out of my lungs!

"Apollo, I can't breathe. Get…off…me…"

I could feel my lids drooping already as I tried to grunt out the words o try and get Apollo off of me. I tried to push him off by trying to roll over, but he wasn't budging.

"Sorry, Leah. See, I want to help you find your…husband. But I don't at the same time." he said quietly. It came out as quite menacingly. "I want…you. To myself." He said, pushing his face into my neck.

"That isn't gonna happen." I said forcefully, and with one last push of my strength, I managed to roll him off of the bed onto the floor. I was now on top of him!

"Don't ever try that kind of stunt again!" I cried. I jumped off and stood up, straightening my clothes and backing away…towards the door.

Apollo slowly stood up and stared at me.

"I'm so, sorry." He said calmly.

"No you're not, you greedy pervert. You already have a fiancée, do you not? I'm sure she won't be too happy if she knew her partner was trying to rape his enemy!" I yelled,. I turned and ran from the bedroom, only to trip over an overturned lamp and land on top of the messed up sofa. Apollo emerged from the bedroom and chased after me.

"No! Don't tell her! PLEASE!" he yelled after me.

I got up and slapped him across the face. Hard.

"Then tell me, why you are here. How did you get in and why are you so, obsessed with being close to me?" I cringed.

Apollo's face was frozen in a stare of shock and bemusement.

"Um…I…well…I thought, that if Justin had…gone…t-then I could be the one you could turn to…I think…" He stuttered. "I got in…just coming through the door. It was open, remember?"

I still didn't understand why he had come, here anyway.

"Apollo, I am…sorry. I can't… kiss you or anything. I have a husband, and you have a loving fiancée. It wouldn't be right…" I tailed off. Apollo was staring me in the eye and was coming closer…

* * *

We ended back up in the bedroom. Kissing as we moved. I wasn't even thinking about Justin. I couldn't help it. I enjoyed it…

* * *

"Hello, and good morning to all you New Yorkers out there on this fine Saturday morning! The time is 7am and-"

I groaned and switched off the alarm. Why does my alarm go off on Saturday mornings?

I rolled over, groaning, and almost screamed when I saw Apollo's face, staring me in the eye, burning a whole through my skull.

"Good morning."


End file.
